Suffering You Must Bear Alone

I could not comfort her, I would not have dared to trepass. All that I could do was to see as she saw, to be moved as she was moved. That kind of suffering you must bear alone. As she said so simply, "It's for me and Mister God", and there's no answer to that.

Most people I knew used God as an excuse for their failure. "He should have done this", or "Why has God done this to me?", but with Mum and Anna difficulties and adversities were merely occasions for doing something. Ugliness was the chance to make beautiful. Sadness was the chance to make glad. Mister God was always available to them.

- Mister God, This Is Anna


I still have not managed to get an earlier flight out. The wait is gruelling.

I will keep on calling.

I have checked out of the hotel since morning, left my freakin' heavy luggage at the front desk, and wandered around downtown for the past four hours.

I have popped in and out of stores, reining myself in strongly from any more buys. Since the day I decided I would not drive up Vancouver after all, I have instead tried to indulge in some retail therapy. I just couldn't care no more about self-control. It didn't help at all that the stuff on sale was really good - too good to pass on.

So, now it's not only that I don't have the mood to travel up to Vancouver, I don't have the money to as well.

I had to literally sit on top of my soft luggage to zip it up. I am just too stuffed. I don't know why as well I am still buying stuff for two - other than the little one. It takes time to give it up altogether, I suppose.


I have just sat my tired ass down at Island Joe's - one of my favorite cafes that not only provides free wi-fi, but serves one of the meanest hot chocolates and grilled turkey-basil-provalone sandwiches around. Most of all, this is all I can afford right now. I'm so low on dollars, and I can't use my Canadian$ here.

The sun is streaming through the trees around me, and I feel warm and cool at the same time. I'm keeping my jacket on - it'd be a hassle to have to put it on and off every ten minutes.

The streets are fairly people-ful. Definitely not as crowded as you would find Orchard Rd on a Sunday. I wonder where Oregonians go and what they do on a Sunday. For sure, whatever they do, they must be with loved ones and friends.

It is a little sad to be sitting alone in a cafe on a Sunday afternoon, when you think about that.

But well, this gives me a good chance to catch on my reading.


Fiction or not, 'Mister God, This Is Anna' surely inspires me without fail.

For one, it makes me wish I were a four-year-old again. Where worries were nothing heard of, and love still remained in its purest, simplest form.